


come play with us

by orphan_account



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Polyamory, bring back my son we want ten, taeyong is Tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 18:22:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12064506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "you two are such trouble-makers and I am literally cleaning up after you 24/7 please be adults for like one second and no both of you simultaneously smothering me in neck kisses isn’t going to make me less mad… but carry on anyways"aka i stole this from a tumblr prompts list hope i did it justice





	come play with us

No one ever said carrying six heavy bags of groceries was the easiest thing in the world. No one ever said it should be an endeavor done by one’s lonesome, either. In fact, there’s probably a rule somewhere out there that you _shouldn’t_ try it at all in the first place. Taeyong knows this and also knows that he should just text one of the guys upstairs to come down to the car and help him, but he’s much too stubborn for that. Just like he’s much too stubborn to take two trips instead of one. After a solid five minutes, he finally closes the car doors and locks them, huffing proudly. He’s managing just fine though, thank you very much.

 

It’s agony to climb up the narrow flights of stairs in their shitty, sweltering apartment. This particular style of building only has four levels to it—not enough for them to have built an elevator, but just enough to make the journey absolutely unbearable.

 

When Taeyong finally reaches the top floor, he nearly collapses trying to take his shoes off, exhaustion aching in every muscle in his delicate body. In the silence of the apartment, he can only hear two things.

 

One, his own heaving breath. God, he needs to start working out again.

 

And two, Johnny and Ten. They’re laughing, laughing in a way that will only mean trouble to the last of the three once he walks through the front door.

 

As his lungs finally start to cooperate with him again, he also finds the energy to push the house key into the old fidgety lock, and make his way into their place.

 

He first noticed the mess. Oh, God, the mess. There’s clothes strewn across the floor and the kitchen is looks like an explosion went off and the air smells… well it smells _burnt._ Secondly, he turns to the right and noticed Johnny and Ten. They’re sat on the couch, in nothing but boxers, munching on an enormous plate of cookies and Taeyong can _see_ the crumbs flying from their mouths when they react to something on the television. One of his eyes twitch.

 

“Does someone want to explain to me why it looks like a fucking animal ransacked our apartment when I had just cleaned up before I left?” he asks, groceries now abandoned at his feet. He puts a hand on his hip.

 

Johnny snaps out of it first and shoves the plate onto the coffee table in front of him, all but bouncing off the couch. He leans down and grabs half of the bags just as Ten makes to follow him. Taeyong doesn’t move until they’re done putting away all the food, watching as they do so with metaphorical tails between their legs. They’ve been caught goofing off. Again. What’s this now, the third time this week?

 

The first time wasn’t too bad. Taeyong knew they were troublemakers through and through, and that scolding wasn’t going to do anything to their morals. It had been a classic whipped-cream-in-hand feather-tickling-nose situation. It was cute, he let them off the hook after smearing the sugary substance over both of their faces.

 

The second time he let them go free once again. His soft spot for the two boys was going to be his biggest downfall. The second time it was the laundry machine. He doesn’t know _why_ he figured that two grown men knew how to do their own laundry, but that was obviously his fault for assuming such. There’s still suds in the nooks and crannies of their basement, and he practically had to grovel at the feet of the other tenants, begging them not to tell the landlord.

 

Now it’s the third occurrence and Taeyong is tired. He wants to sleep, he doesn’t want to have to rinse down the kitchen with a hose, but his heart is already jumping with anxiety at the mess. The two boys seem to notice this.

 

“Yongie… hey… we’re sorry this time… we lost track of what we were doing and when you were coming home, and I swear we were gonna pick our stuff up before you came back.” Ten apologizes, coming closer to the distraught elder. Johnny is also shuffling closer and bending down, nuzzling his face against Taeyong’s neck.

 

Taeyong bites back a noise when he feels Johnny’s lips press against the tender skin there. He pauses before pulling the tallest one back and standing him beside Ten, “You realize that I’m not your babysitter, right? You realize that you two are responsible for cleaning up this mess?”

 

They nod, pouts drawn on their lips, and it’s so cute. So, so cute. Taeyong wants to kiss the sad frowns away but he must stay strong.

 

Johnny only stays where he was placed for another second before finding himself back in the crook of the pink haired boy’s neck, hands now at his waist to pull him closer. Ten happily joins in on the other side of him.

 

“N-no, no. You… you two have to clean up, this isn’t proper adult behavior, you know that.” His resolve is getting weaker and weaker by the moment, and he attempts to bend down to start picking up the clothes on the tile. The two men follow, mouths still pressing tender kisses against any skin they can find. It’s an adorable apology, but they’re acting like a couple of pinheads instead of fully capable university seniors. Johnny’s going into med school, for fuck’s sake. He should be the most adult one out of all of them.

 

But he’s not, of course he’s not. Instead, he’s the one coaxing Taeyong’s sweater off his body, tossing it down on the ground and adding to the pile that he’s _trying_ to clean up. He thinks that was a new low, even for Thing 1.

 

Thing 2, on the other hand, is being a bit more helpful—taking the clothes from Taeyong’s hand once he picks them up. He is still crowding his space though, kisses now turning to playful bites as he tries harder to gain Taeyong’s attention. Which isn’t going to happen, obviously.

 

“You both are unbearable. You know that, right? And kissing my neck isn’t going to help.”

 

They both hum in tandem, planting loud smooches on either side of the thin column before separating. Taeyong can’t help but feel a bit… disappointed.

 

“But just because it’s not gonna help, doesn’t mean you should stop, necessarily.”

 

The grins that form also come in unison, and Taeyong childishly starts to think the duo probably have the ability to read minds. Yeah, that’s it. It also explains how they somehow spring right into action at the same time. Ten dumps the armful of clothes into the laundry basket, and Johnny lifts Taeyong over his shoulder, carrying him down the hall to their shared bedroom.

 

His resolve is shattered, and even though there’s still an itch in his fingertips to scrub down the kitchen walls, he honestly can’t be bothered to get up and do so because Ten is now joining the two of them, climbing on top of him with practiced ease. Johnny is _definitely_ a puppy, but maybe Ten is more like a cat. Or maybe Ten is a cat and Johnny is a mouse. They do make quite a Tom-and-Jerry-esque tag team.

 

Regardless of what they might be, Taeyong is nothing but hopeless against them.

**Author's Note:**

> p.s i finished my noren fic check it out if yall want~ xx


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